Staring Down the Sun
by Izzy
Summary: Anakin makes a better choice in ROTS, but neither his struggle with Palpatine and Sith Lord nor his relationship with Padme is resolved so easily.
1. Five Years

Five Years  
By Izzy 

Padme dismissed Motee and Elle early, though she knew she kept no secrets from them. They knew it was that day of the year. They had helped Threepio unload the contents of the small dinner Padme would give, and they knew who her one guest would be.

She hardly needed to give an explanation for this yearly ritual. She was not the first person of high rank to express interest in her relations after they had been removed into the Jedi Temple. The Order dealt with such inquisitive relatives in various ways. Her they had decided to tolerate. And of course, there was the ever-delicate matter of relations between the Order and the Senate. Ever since they had openly removed a Chancellor from power, with no more excuse than the belief that he was intending to destroy the Republic, the Senate had fought a fierce battle to return the Jedi Order to subservience to them, but the Order would not be returned to such a state, and Padme could not even blame them. Still, Master Anakin Skywalker, formerly representative of Palpatine on the Jedi Council, was now liaison between the Council and the Senate, and so met regularly with Chancellor Organa, and often with the other Senators.

But despite her sympathy with the Jedi, in the end, Padme was a member of the Senate, and though Anakin had explained to her exactly why the Chancellor had needed to be removed, including the details the general public didn't know, some part of her could only see the Jedi striding into the Senate, holding those Senators who protested at the tips of their lightsabers, self-righteous as the worst of the politicians, taking authority in a manner similar to that as a military coup. No, not just in a similar manner. It had been a military coup, because the Jedi had been the military then. That they had retreated when Organa had taken control and probably had saved the democracy in the end couldn't change that.

If there had been a trial, perhaps that would have made her feel better. But Palpatine himself had thwarted that. Master Windu had very nearly subdued him, but he had distracted the Jedi Master with Force Lightening and escaped. Or as least that was what Windu had said, and Anakin had repeated. The Senate in general had heard only he had killed three Jedi Masters and escaped. Many of them believed Windu had killed Palpatine. Anakin had admitted to her that he wouldn't put it past Windu, but added that he didn't think he would lie about it.

At any rate Anakin couldn't understand why the actions of the Jedi had upset Padme so much. Perhaps that was what started it. Nor could he understand why, having passed Luke and Leia off as her sister's children, she insisted on their being turned over to the Jedi. Perhaps that decision and his angry reaction was what had destroyed them.

Or maybe they simply hadn't been able to stand living a lie any longer.

When Anakin came in, Threepio went out. Padme envied him and Artoo, strange as it sounded. While she and Anakin would eat, drink, and be anything but merry, they would watch the city and be content. Of course, they'd probably feel some concern over their obviously distressed masters, and they occasionally argued, but in the end, they knew what they were at. Anakin and Padme weren't really sure why they did this at all.

She bowed. Her lips formed the words, "Master Skywalker," but she could not bring herself to say them. That was one barrier that need not be built yet.

"Shall we?" she asked, on rising. He just nodded, and they sat down. Every year, it seemed the table grew longer.

They needed noone to serve them. When either couldn't reach something, Anakin merely gestured with his hand, and it flew neatly into their grip. Not an entirely appropriate use of the Force, she'd heard. Padme didn't care. She felt frozen to her seat during these dinners, and she couldn't stand the thought of even a droid intruding onto them.

The food provided an excuse not to speak at first. But the silence grew too heavy, and she asked, "How are my nephew and niece?"

Her nephew and niece. In other words, _their_ son and daughter. Did he flinch? She didn't trust her eyes to tell.

"They were well, last I heard. I'm afraid I've been off-planet for nearly two months. I only came back this morning."

Sooner or later, Padme supposed, there'd be a year when he wasn't on-planet on this day. What would they do then? Would they meet whenever he came back? Would they simply skip that year and meet again the next?

Though five years so far, and he'd never missed their dinner. Had he somehow contrived to get this mission over in time to come to her tonight? It wouldn't surprise her. This was something they always had to do, after all.

"What were you doing? If you don't mind my asking."

"I don't," he said, and he began telling her, about Bengaport and its warring families and his attempts to settle the conflict between them. She didn't follow him too well, but it passed the time, and it was a more than safe topic.

He asked after her sister, her family, Jar Jar, her handmaidens, the Chancellor. She asked after Obi-Wan. She did note at least he didn't seem bothered by her bringing him up. He was convinced now she hadn't been having any clandestine affair with his old Master. She wasn't even capable of keeping up a clandestine marriage with him.

And he very nearly laughed when describing a debate that Obi-Wan had led within the council. Apparently he had recently started communing with _his_ Master, who had managed to come back as some sort of ghost, and had often clashed with the council while alive, so now was acting, according to the Council, as a bad influence on Master Kenobi.

Padme thought Anakin had laughed in the Council chamber, earlier that day during the latest argument. She would liked to have seen that.

Recalling it made Anakin smile, even make a sound which almost sounded like a laugh. But it died in his throat. He couldn't laugh. Not here.

As that knowledge weighed her down, Padme knew he would be gone soon. They could only take so much of this at once.

"He does have a point," Anakin mused, more to himself than to Padme. "If you watch the way the new padawans are trained, the way Luke and Leia will be trained, it becomes clear quickly enough that the changes the war has brought to the Order, the 'damage' as some will call it, are going to be permanent. At the very least, the Order isn't going to be the way it was before the war for many generations. Maybe if we have another thousand years of peace the Jedi can again lead their lives untainted. But not now."

"Do you think the Council will accept what he's saying?"

"I don't know. I think it's too early to tell anything. Another ten years and we'll see what happens."

Their plates were nearly empty. Anakin helped her take them into her tiny kitchen, wash them, and put them away, for which she thanked him.

"Well..." he started. This was always a tense moment. Through the rest of the evening, what was to happen was too well understood. But now was when the feelings between them that could not be purged, that railed against the cages of their hardened hearts every time they glimpsed each other over the year, that they refused to give outlet too at any other time, would never let them part unmolested.

She reached out and took his hand, and started, "Ani..." but could say no more.

Then he took her hand to his face, and kissed it. His lips burned her skin, and his eyes burned her soul, so much passion and pain, enough to make her want to scream out her own. She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him hard, demand to know why they were doing this, beg him to take her back, cling to him and refuse to let go.

But she stood still, and when he released her hand, it fell limp at her side. Then he bowed, murmured, "Goodnight, Senator," turned, and strode swiftly away.

By the time she left the kitchen, Threepio had come back in, and she knew by this that Anakin had departed, headed back for the Jedi Temple which she couldn't help but feel he had finally chosen over her, just as she had chosen the Senate over him. He was a successful Jedi Master, and as for her, there was talk of her succeeding Bail Organa as Chancellor. And once a year, on the naming day of the children they had given up, they met to remind themselves of the price they had paid for their success.

Only one part of the ritual left. Padme started dressing for sleep, and by the time she had curled up on one side of the bed, leaving the other, where Anakin had once lay, as empty as it had been for the last five years, the tears had started.


	2. Eight Years

Eight Years  
By Izzy 

Luke and Leia were both selected early. Anakin brought the news to Padme at their eighth yearly dinner since the twins' birth, and their parents' subsequent estrangement.

"An old friend of Obi-Wan's took a liking to Leia," he explained. "A Mon Calamari knight named Bant Eerin. I think Obi-Wan was waiting for one of the twins to be claimed. Bant had barely gotten approval over Leia when Obi-Wan showed formally declared his wish to train Luke."

Padme thought Obi-Wan might not have been the only one waiting, but that Anakin would have wanted to train one of the two children himself. However, she did not say so, but merely said, "I'm glad for that, then. They must both be doing very well."

"Oh, they are. Though I've heard Bant say once she thinks Leia's more suited to be a politician than a Jedi."

Was that accusation in his voice? It might very well be.

After that they avoided all but the most trivial subjects until their plates were nearly clean. Then Anakin said, "I think now there's something you need to tell me."

He hadn't used that tone of voice with her since before the twins were born. "What?" she asked nervously.

"Do you intend to run for Chancellor? And if you do, what do you think your chances are of getting elected?"

"What?" She hadn't been expecting that question. "Bail Organa has another two years in office..."

"I know these things start early," he cut her off. "At the very least, you have to be thinking about it."

"I..." She had been thinking about it in spare moments, of which she didn't have many, but she was forced to say, "I don't know. I'm leaning towards it, but I don't know if they'd vote for anyone from Naboo. But why do you need to know?"

"Padme," she couldn't remember the last time he'd called her by her first name, "think about it! I meet with Bail at least once a week. I doubt that'll change in two years time. If you do become Chancellor, we'll be pushed back into each other's lives."

Being forced to realize that was enough to freeze Padme's mind. They were barely able to stand meeting one night a year. Having to see him that often was beyond her comprehension.

"Do you want me not to run?" she asked.

"I..." he drifted off, and they finished the meal in silence. It wasn't until the dishes were put away and they stood in the kitchen that he spoke.

"I don't want you to give up anything for my sake. But I don't know if I can handle seeing you so often and not being able to be close to you. I still feel like I need you, so badly it tears me up inside." He was stumbling over his words again. He'd never been very good with them in this respect.

But Padme couldn't care, when he had moved so close she could feel his hot breath on her face, making her own breath quicken, and it took all her willpower not to move closer, and she couldn't move away even as he leaned in...

But then he turned away, and practically fled her apartment, a moment before an action, which, Padme realized only after if had failed to happen, would have reversed everything.

She cried herself to sleep that night as always, but it was not like the previous years, because then her tears had been purely ones of despair. Those of that night were of frustration, and fear.


	3. Nine Years

Nine Years  
By Izzy 

Nine years after Luke and Leia's birth, Anakin finally proved unable to make it back to Coruscant for his and Padme's annual dinner. On receiving a message from him to that effect, Padme decided to take the night off for some quiet solitary contemplation.

She got in half an hour of it. She ended up stripping down to one of her simpler sleeping tunics and kneeling in the middle of the floor and attempting a Jedi meditation technique she'd learned about-oh, she didn't remember where or when anymore.

She forced herself to recall the days with Anakin that had consisted of the break in their relationship. The words she'd said, the words he'd said, the clear desire of them both to hurt the other that had sent them both fleeing, she, at least, afraid of both him and of herself, and he probably likewise. Then she tried to patch them together, figure out how each event had led to the next, but it was difficult. She hadn't made much progress at all when a haughty voice said, "Meditating, Senator?" and she yelled and leapt away from its source.

"Calm down, Padme, it's just me." It was Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Padme reached into her closet and pulled out a robe. "What do you want?" she demanded as she put it on, angry at his method of introducing himself.

"To talk to you. About what is going on between you and Anakin."

"Nothing is going on," she said automatically. "He merely updates me on how my nephew and niece are doing."

"So he told me at first, but if that was so, I wondered, why was he so insistent on getting back to Coruscant by their birthday? As you may have heard, only one of us had to stay on Ryloth, but to keep Luke there for such a prolonged period of time at his young age, we agreed, was not a good idea. But he kept saying he should take Luke back, and it occurred to me that he's always been too protective of him, far more so then would make sense for his former Master's new padawan or his friend's nephew. So I got him to tell me the truth. All of it." He gave her a moment for this to sink in, then continued , "Luke is fine, by the way, if a bit shaken by what he's seen recently, and Leia was well too, last I heard. But when Anakin told me what happened between you two, I told him that on this night, the two of us were going to talk."

There was nothing threatening in his voice, but somehow that just made Padme angrier. "There's nothing to talk about," she spat. "If he told you everything, then I think it should be pretty clear that our youthful indiscretion took care of itself."

"Did it?" Still his infuriatingly gentle tone of voice. "I don't think it did, really. Not when I can sense such pain in you both, which he, at least, may not be able to afford."

"What do you know about it?" Padme asked, snarling now in her bitter fury. "What could you ever know about it? You've never been in love, oh no, not you; you're the perfect Jedi, caring about all the galaxy while refusing to care for anyone in it! You come in here, all self-righteous and sanctimonious, and you can't have an inkling of what these past nine years have been like for us!" And she broke down crying.

She felt Obi-Wan's hands lightly take a hold of her and gently sit her down on the bed. "Padme..." he started, but then fell silent, waiting for her to cry it all out. "Is there anything else you'd like to say to me?" he asked, when it was clear she had plenty of tears to cry.

As it happened, there was a lot Padme had to say to him, and over the next hours, she poured out diatribe after diatribe, starting with her anger over their coup, the disrespect they had showed the institutions of the Republic while supposedly saving them. He made no protests, as she would have expected him to make. Then, bit by bit, she poured out every curse she'd mentally hurled against the Jedi Order and their Code, everything she'd fancied herself saying to the Jedi Council, about Anakin, about love, about what they couldn't possibly know shut up in the Temple, even all the times she'd been angry at Obi-Wan himself, and what in the moments of her greatest fury he had symbolized in her head. He took all her invectives, and listened patiently through her account from the pain she had felt when she first realized she was in love with Anakin to the dread and aching loneliness of the previous year.

When she had finally fallen silent, he said, "Padme, there are three things you have said that I must insist are not true. First of all, I do care about Anakin very deeply, and I am very worried about him."

"I do believe that," Padme said quietly. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

"Second, I actually have been in love. I don't care to say when or with who, but please believe me that I understand all too well what you and Anakin have been through." Padme didn't know whether to believe him or not, but said nothing.

"And third, you voiced the suspicion of the Senate that Master Windu killed Palpatine, and then claimed he had escaped. Much as it might upset you that I hold this view, I would in fact wish he had. The truth of the matter is he is still out there, and over the past nine years has been the cause of much strife and death on the Outer Rim. Half of the missions Anakin gets sent on these days involve him, sometimes with us not even knowing it until later."

"Have you told Bail about this, at least?" she asked challengingly.

"Yes, we have told him everything we know. He has employed some of the Republic's more clandestine elite forces in search of him. It's little enough use sending them after Palpatine though, and no use sending anyone else, his being, as Anakin told you, a Sith Lord."

"And you never made that public." A rebuke she'd already made, but she wanted to give him another chance to counter it.

"It would cause nothing but panic, do more harm than good. Not even all Jedi can deal with a Sith as powerful as Darth Sidious. According to the Prophecy, Anakin is the one who has to defeat him. And..." For the first time that night, he faltered completely, then continued, "I am worried Sidious may be able to win Anakin over to his cause."

"What?" An automatic denial came up in Padme's mind. "Anakin wouldn't possibly..." But at the same time, some voice in the back of her head whispered the truth to her.

"Padme, allow me to be blunt; you've only seen him once a year for nine years. I've been with him constantly. He has very deep weaknesses that Palpatine can play on. He did even before the Clone Wars began, and what he experienced during the wars only made them worse. In a way, the wars made us all more vulnerable to our own darkness. And his separation from you has made it worse."

"You think...if I took him back..." Padme started incredulously.

"Actually, I don't know if it would make him better or worse," Obi-Wan admitted. "I am no longer certain of anything. But I felt you had the right to understand the situation as it is. Now I need a clarification. Do you indeed intend to run for Chancellor?"

"Yes. I was intending to tell Anakin tonight. I'm going to officially announce it on Harvest Day. And I think I have a good chance of getting elected."

"Very well, then. Anakin has told me that he is considered resigning his position as Senate liaison if you win, and if the Council lets him."

"Obi-Wan, I've never wanted to be in his way-"

"You won't. On that topic, I mentioned earlier that the war has changed the Jedi. The Council is beginning to accept that. There is a strong faction that is pushing for the loosening of the Code. And the simple fact of the matter is that we can't expel Anakin. That would drive him straight into the arms of Palpatine. If you two were to resume your old relationship, it would likely be tolerated, at least on our side, though what the political ramifications for you would be, I will not pretend to know."

"Simply put, you've got a decision to make and in theory a year to make it, and I don't know how to advise you, expect to lay out everything before you, and say also that as a person, I find it difficult to watch Anakin suffer the way he has under your current arrangement."

"I understand," said Padme. "Thank you."

She did not sleep at all that night, but sat there contemplating the ins and outs of what he had said to her, until when Threepio automatically activated himself the next morning and went to wake her, he found her still crouched on the edge of the bed, staring out for an answer in the air that held none.


	4. Ten Years

Ten Years  
By Izzy 

She'd been Surpreme Chancellor a week, and of course she'd met with Anakin during that time. And Padme had hoped seeing him for the first time in nearly two years might give her some clarity, but as she waited for him on the usual night, which she'd had trouble keeping free, she was still undecided.

Still, she did make one particular preparation. Five minutes before he was scheduled to arrive, she went into the 'fresher and injected herself with a contraceptive serum. A new formula, since the last one had so spectacularly failed her a little less than eleven years ago. Not as long-lasting at the old one, which could in theory keep her protected for two days, but it ought to last the night out, and if things went a certain way later, she didn't want to have to stop to race to the 'fresher. A pause in that case might very well prove fatal.

The beginning of the dinner was excruciating. Anakin seemed to brood more, and her first attempts to break the silence fell flat. But when he ignored her questions about the twins, she finally said angrily, "Anakin, whatever happens between us, I would like to actually be kept updated about our children."

It was the first time she'd ever referred to them as such, and that got a reaction out of him. His eyes flew wide, and he made several attempts to say various things, it seemed, before finally asked what Obi-Wan had told her about them the previous year.

After that, they at least kept the conversation going throughout the meal. They fell silent while putting the dishes away, and the tension rose.

Finally they stood opposite each other, as they had eight times before, and suddenly Padme wondered what would happen if Anakin walked away. No, she knew what would happen. He would resign as liaison, and then they could go on as usual. Even though neither of them wanted to.

"Do you know what I did two weeks ago?"

An unexpected question to be sure, but now was a time for the unexpected. Padme simply shook her head.

"I killed a man. He was a monster, but I didn't have to kill him. He'd surrendered. He'd thrown himself at my feet, and requested mercy. He hadn't begged for it though. He knew he'd get it from a Jedi." There was a note of disgust in his voice.

"If he'd begged for mercy, would you have spared him?"

"No," said Anakin bluntly. "He'd killed children."

And Padme remembered a morning on Tatooine, and when Anakin had used that tone of voice, and what he had confessed to, and all she could say was, "Oh."

"He'd really tortured them too. You don't understand, Padme, some of the things I've seen...but when I _hacked him to pieces_...I felt like I was killing myself. And it felt good. I wanted to destroy myself."

Tears glistened on Padme's face-would she ever be able to get through this night without crying at some point?-but she wasn't sure whether they were for him, or for what she understood. For what she'd understood thirteen years ago, last time they'd been in this situation. In a hard irony, it was that moment which had driven home to her how hard she had fallen for Anakin in the first place. But in this moment, she'd known that already. No, all there was left to face up to was that she ought to run, and that she might not be able to.

"Padme," he continued, his voice shaking harder than ever, "when I heard you'd given our children up, I wanted to kill you. I mean I really did; I pictured doing so in my head. That was why I left. I won't let you die. No matter what."

And that should frighten her, but there was no room in Padme for fear. She waited for Anakin to calm down, but his breathing to become more even, and she said, "This is it, isn't it? Because all the old gods help me, Anakin, if you kissed me right now, I don't think I'd be able to pull away-"

That was all Anakin needed to hear. Another moment and his mouth was crushed against hers, and through the haze of passion she felt a calm descend, a year's worth of agony evaporating in the face of her fate being sealed at last.

Then he pulled away, and said, "No. I won't do this to you," and turned away.

She grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. "Too late," she whispered, before she slammed her mouth back over his. She drank from his lips as if she had been dying from thirst, and in a way, she had been.

Still kissing like they were both about to die, they backed up into the bedroom. Somewhere along the way Padme's robes got unfastened, and they tumbled onto the bed with her only in her underdress. He slid it off her as she yanked his robes and leggings off; when his boots got in the way she ripped them off and threw them across the room. They pulled out her hair pins together, then he buried his face in her hair and inhaled deep. The sight of him clutching at her tresses and pressing them to his skin so desperately was almost enough to make Padme lose it completely.

She flipped him onto his back and her hands roamed his body, reclaiming lost territory. His hands did the same; their arms bumped and wrestled in their need to touch each other. There was a new pattern of scars on his thighs; when she traced them with her fingers he murmured, "Forgive me, Padme. I'm not as handsome as I once was."

"Nor am I," she replied. "I'm older than you, and have had two children."

But he only said, "You're always beautiful to me," and next thing she knew, she was the one on her back, and Anakin's mouth was all over her, devouring her alive. She clutched at his head, hands tangling themselves in his hair, as he moved between her legs and all she could do was hold on. When she came, she screamed.

They were kissing again, Padme licking herself off his tongue, and he suddenly pulled away and said, "Wait! The serum!"

"I already injected myself," she told him. "Before you arrived."

His jaw dropped. "You were planning...?"

"For all possibilities."

Their mouths joined again as their bodies did, and Padme was surprised by an overwhelming sense of _relief_. She hadn't realized before this how much she had craved Anakin, like a drug. For a moment she felt fear again, but she pushed it away and lost herself completely in Anakin's body.

It was only afterwards that all her fears returned. Would this make Anakin worse instead of better? Would she be able to stand going through this relationship again, even if they could do it openly this time? How would the galaxy truly react to them? Why kind of Chancellor was she, if she let herself be dependent on a Jedi whose life was always at risk, and one in danger of worse things than mere death besides?

Anakin must have sensed her fear and confusion, because he started gently, "Padme..."

"Miss Padme! Master Anakin! You must come here at once and have a word with R2!"

Anakin and Padme had only time to pull themselves up before Artoo rolled into the room, squealing with unmistakable indignation, and unfazed by the humans' appearance. Threepio followed hot on his heels, "Master Anakin, your R2 unit had to gall to suggest that I..." Then he got a look at the two of them on the bed. "Oh my! Terribly sorry! Come Artoo, we are being unspeakably rude."

That was when Anakin started to laugh.

Padme plain could not remember the last time Anakin had laughed like this, falling over while clutching his stomach and bellowing. It was only a moment or so before she joined in, chortling and clutching Anakin like they were a pair of little kids. Knowing the significence of it without having to speak, they lay in each others arms and just laughed.


	5. Fourteen Years

**Fourteen Years  
By Izzy**

It had been an exhausting day, all the more so because now the population of Coruscant, though whatever means people always did, had caught wind of something important going on, probably in the Outer Rim, and possibly involving the deposed Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, the war hero and Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker, or both. It was known that Anakin's padawan, a young girl called Mara Jade, had been seen alone more often than a padawan should. Padme Amidala had refused to answer any questions about either, or about the rumors. Besides the Jedi Council's strong discouragement from informing the public, she really didn't want to talk about it.

Not to mention she couldn't even answer all the questions, because she didn't even know everything. She knew only what Obi-Wan and the Council had told her. The Council had told her that Anakin had been sent off on his own, and he would kill Palpatine, or Palpatine would kill him, or they would kill each other. Or Anakin would turn. Obi-Wan had told her that he had secretly agreed to follow Anakin as soon as he could do so without the Council finding out until they couldn't stop him, and that Anakin had made him make a promise of what to do should he turn. "He wants me to be the one to do it," Obi-Wan had said to her, and Padme hadn't had to ask what it was he would have to do.

She knew Obi-Wan was gone when she saw Luke waiting for her on the veranda. She dismissed her entourage almost as soon as they were docked, and beckoning to Luke, she walked inside.

"He's gone, mother," Luke said when they emerged into her bedroom. "He sent me to tell you."

Padme wondered how long her son had known. "Well, I can pass on wishes for a happy nameday for both you and Leia from Senator Neldonin." Neldonin, who had replaced her in the Senate, and enjoyed referring to Padme's "nephew and niece" in knowing tones. The last of her and Anakin's secrets was getting out.

"Give him our thanks for it, then."

They sat down; there was an awkward pause. "Luke," Padme started, "I was planning to be alone tonight..."

"But haven't you always eaten dinner with father tonight? Every year since we were born? Except the year he was on Ryloth?"

"Well yes, but that's part of the reason-"

"So why don't you eat with me tonight?"

"Luke!" She exclaimed, shocked.

"Please, mother? Leia and Master Bant are off planet, Mara isn't talking to or seeing anyone right now, and I don't want to be alone tonight."

She couldn't refuse her son's sad tone. "All right, then. I'll see what we have."

It was a good thing she wasn't entertaining anyone else that night. All she could find in the pantry was leftover flatbread, a few slices of a processed meat, a bowl of mixed nuts, a QuickSnack, a tiny stick of Bantha butter, a bottle of wine from Kashyyk aged 17 years, and a half-empty bottle of blue milk. By the time she had finished her inventory, Luke had joined her in the kitchen. "I'm afraid tonight's dinner will be a disgrace to all dinners hosted by a Supreme Chancellor," she said, trying for some levity.

To her relief Luke smiled at her. "It's okay," he told her. "I'm a Jedi. We can eat anything."

They brought the food and the milk out to the table, and Luke made his mother laugh as he tried and fumbled with the Force-tricks his father had performed effortlessly. She finally got up and served them both their portions of buttered flatbread and meat by hand, and Luke settled for pushing the bowl of nuts and the milk back and forth, which he could do.

By the time they were digging in, it had come home to Padme that she'd hardly spoken a word to either her children their entire lives, and the boy whose broad smile was suddenly fading, the thought of his father and his Master intruding, was a stranger to her. _Well,_ she said to herself, _clearly I have a duty tonight to change that, and to keep this boy cheerful._ Yet memories of her own were intruding, of the past four years, and the past three dinners, once torments, now pleasant intimate evenings in which two people who lived to serve the Republic took a few hours for themselves.

"I see him a lot, you know," said Luke, and Padme knew he was talking about Anakin, "he and Master are always seeing each other and working together. I wish we saw Leia more. Either we're running off, or she and Master Bant are running off. Though our Masters try to see each other too. Though I think they regret it, because when Leia and I get together, we drive them crazy!" He grinned wickedly.

Padme grinned back. "How do you do that?"

"Well, it seems Master Bant think we talk too fast. Leia talks faster than me, though, I wonder how she puts up with it. And as for my Master, well, all he can talk about is how I'm too much like my father."

He was like Anakin, Padme thought. But more like the Anakin of nine than the Anakin of nineteen, and the years after that. She wondered if his father had kept his youthful exuberance as long as Luke had. And would five more years see him as moody and as arrogant? Padme hoped not.

Even if he was as reckless a pilot, at least according to his Master. By the time they were finishing off their flatbread, he was regaling her with an adventure involving half the structures on Veck III, where, as he carefully explained, his piloting skills saved the mission, not that his Master had been grateful. Padme made a mental note to have a word with Obi-Wan.

They retreated to the kitchen, left the dishes in the sink, and ate the rest of the nuts while sitting on the kitchen floor, Padme's robes getting so crumpled she knew Motee just might throw a fit.

"You probably should be getting back to the Temple and to bed," Padme noted. "It must be close to midnight."

"I don't think I'll get much sleep," Luke answered. "I've been having bad dreams this past week. Too vivid. Far too vivid."

"You think they might be real?" asked a concerned Padme.

"I hope not! They're all about Leia being tortured, and father...father..." He was clearly terrified that they were real.

_Very deep weaknesses that Palpatine can play on._ Padme felt cold. "I'm not hungry anymore."

"Me neither." Luke took the bowl and put it away.

Hand in hand, they walked back to the veranda. It was now very late at night; most of the buildings were darkened, and the nonstop traffic of the planet had thinned as much as it ever did.

"Can we just sit here awhile, mother?" Padme voiced a soft assent, and they sat down together and stared out into the night, leaning into each other. There was still so much Padme wanted to ask, but now was not the time.

But they had only sat for a few minutes when a taxi broke out of the line of passing ships and came towards them. Luke pulled his calling rod out of his pocket in confusion, then looked up, and saw Mara Jade was in the taxi, and she looked very relieved to see him.

She handed the driver his fare and leapt on the veranda without him even bothering to dock. "Luke! Our Masters are back! They've got Leia with them; Darth Sidious killed Master Bant and captured and tortured her." She was activating her communicator. "Paging Master Skywalker. Master, are you there? I've found him. He's with the Chancellor. What? Are you sure you're up to it, Master? Are you sure Leia's up to it? Shouldn't she be in bacta? I see. Very well, I'll tell her." She turned the device off, and said to Padme, "I apologize for the intrusion upon your hospitality so late at night, Chancellor Amidala, but you will have three more guests after me tonight."

"What happened?" Padme and Luke demanded together.

"I don't know, really. All I know is your Master left earlier this evening and came back with your father and sister, and both of them have been spending most of their energy healing her."

The three of them arrived in almost no time. Physically Leia was completely unmarked, which made her empty expression all the more frightening, but she was leaning on both of the men for support.

"Luke...mother...Mara..." she murmured. Tenderly Luke took her into his arms and eased her down onto the seat. "It's fine, Luke," she protested weakly. Padme found herself frozen between husband and children. "What..."

"He tried to use her to make me fall," answered Anakin. He sounded more tired than he had ever been. "And he very nearly succeeded. If he hadn't tried taking us to Coruscant...if Obi-Wan hadn't found us...if he hadn't been there...I think I'll be all right now."

"So...it's over now?"

Obi-Wan answered. "Yes. You can inform the Senate tomorrow that Palpatine is dead. It's over."

"I..." She was getting choked up. When Anakin took her into her arms and nearly squeezed the life out of her, she finally cried the way she'd wanted to cry the entire day.

"Hey," everyone turned their attention to Mara, who, unnoticed, had slipped into Padme's apartment, and was holding the bottle of wine in one hand, and a glass in the other. "Kashyyk wine. There's no drink more soothing."

Padme laughed through her tears. "I bought that months ago. I was saving it for tonight. It's at its best age right now."

"Are you sure Leia's old enough?" Obi-Wan asked nervously.

"On Naboo she would be," replied Padme. "In fact, she would be just today. Happy fourteenth, Leia." And taking bottle and glass, she knelt before her daughter and helped her drink. She looked from her mother to her brother to her father, and Padme thought she saw just a bit of spark return to her eyes. She almost started crying again.

In the end, all six of them together drained the bottle. They didn't bother returning to the Temple, deciding the Council could wait, since the rest of the galaxy was going to wait even longer, until the Senate met relatively late the next day. The bed went to Leia, of course, with Luke humorously collapsing against its side, while the rest collapsed on the furniture. Padme woke the next morning curled up on the couch in her husband's arms.


	6. TwentyFive Years

**Twenty-Five Years  
By Izzy**

Eleven years ago, Padme Amidala had known her husband had been spared the worst of fates, and she had decided then that should he die the next day in the line of duty, she would bear it well. And so she had continued to tell herself every time he had gone out to risk life and limb in the service of the Republic and the Force. Still when the end finally came, the pain didn't seem to be much less.

She sat with the twins, twenty-five years old that day and both long knighted. They had come together to deliver the news of his and Obi-Wan's deaths; they had fallen together on Dac. "The Mon Calamari have paid to have the bodies taken to Ruisto, where they can be cremated. Mara's on her way there from Yag'Dhul. If you want to attend, you should probably book passage for tonight. We're leaving as quickly as possible if the Council allows it."

"Do you think they will?" she asked, keeping her voice steady as possible.

"For Luke, if I can persuade them," replied Leia.

"She's really good at persuading the Council," Luke noted. "I think she made good use of those years with Master Yoda." Yoda himself had finished Leia's training, and furthermore, she was already getting a reputation as one of the best negotiators in the galaxy.

"But for yourself?"

A bitter laugh. "What was I to either Master Kenobi or Master Skywalker? Merely his wife's niece."

Except that everyone now knew otherwise. But there had been one Jedi Master and one Chancellor, well, former Chancellor now, with their reputations to protect, and so everyone still had to pretend that Luke and Leia Naberrie were nephew and niece to Padme Amidala, and that her relationship with Anakin Skywalker had remained platonic until shortly after her election as Chancellor. They'd even held another wedding ceremony after he'd killed Palpatine.

The three of them spent an hour together, mostly reminiscing and exchanging news, but Leia shocked her brother and mother both when she spoke about attending another funeral soon, that of her own former Master's. "Master Yoda? But Master Yoda can't-"

"Luke, he's passed 900. That species of his may live a long time, but they're not immortal. And the rise of the Sith over the past couple of decades has taken its toll on him. If they had triumphed, if father had turned, he would probably be dead by now." She paused, and Luke and Padme looked uncomfortably at each other. Leia had been witnessed to things they hadn't eleven years ago, but she never spoke directly about either her own ordeal or how Anakin had reacted to it. "As it is, I'd say he has a year, two at the most, and then..."

Padme held back her tears until her children were gone, then she found herself mechanically booking passage to Ruisto-it was surprisingly easy, leaving her wondering if she was the only one wanting to go there, and going into her closet to pack.

There, amoung her various dresses, she found a ripped cloak. Anakin's. How long ago had he left it here, about to go off again, saying he'd take it back to the Temple and get it repaired when he came back? He'd forgotten about it, she supposed.

It was the scent that broke her. She found herself pressing her nose into the cloak's folds, and an image came back to her from a night exactly fifteen years ago, of Anakin's face half-buried in her hair, and the mad passion it had roused in her, and she crumpled to the floor clutching the cloak to her breast, wailing out her anguish, her tears soaking the cloth.

From there the images came in torrents. She looked up at her clothes, and remembered how she'd worn each and every dress at some meeting with him. She stood up and stumbled back into her bedroom like a drunk. She stumbled to one side of the room and remembered how she'd bowed to him when he'd come in during their estrangement-ten years they had wasted! She stumbled to the other side and saw him again pacing back and forth, confessing to wanting what he shouldn't, another chapter in his long struggle with the Dark Side, which for so many years she had refused to see. Into the living room, and she was confronted with the couch they had slept on that memorable night when he had won at last, though the cost of the war was such that it had been as much a night of comfort as of celebration.

To the kitchen-oh the kitchen! The spot where he had nearly kissed her on the twins' eight nameday. The spot where he finally had on their tenth. The part of the wall she had thrown him against when she had kissed him back. They were all perfectly burned into her memories.

When she could think straight again, the first thing she decided was that after five year of semi-retirement, and the main reason for her staying on Coruscant gone, it was high time she returned to Naboo.

There wasn't even any need to return here after tonight, she decided further. She would go directly to Naboo from Dac. She could have her things sent after her.

Though it was short notice to send to Pooja, but Pooja didn't really need her for anything anyway. In fact, sometimes she thought her niece was humoring her by keeping her on hire as an advisor. Her energies just might be better spent on Naboo, with whatever she decided to do there.

Indeed, when she contacted Pooja, she got one of her handmaidens, who informed her the Senator would not be available for the next 26 hours, and assured her it was not necessary to transmit her resignation in person. The girl couldn't have been twenty years old, and she clearly viewed the 52-year-old Padme as a relic. Padme only hoped she respected her mistress.

She ate dinner by herself that night, and drank most of the wine she had in the apartment. She put on her simplest clothes before she flagged down a taxi; she didn't want to attract attention.

But the Givin driver recognized her; she hadn't even sat down when she found herself on the receiving end of a large amount of praise. "Your output," he concluded, "tilted the axis of the Republic directly into the positive quadrant after it had seemed its fractures would never have added up into a whole again."

"Thanks," she replied, "but I would think a lot of the praise for that would go to Chancellor Organa, not me."

"He reset the equation well, yes," the driver replied, "but you assigned the final values to the variables. Solving the equation of the Republic after the war took many lengthy calculations, and you computed them accurately. May I query for your point of destination?"

"Westport," she replied. "I am going home."


End file.
